


winners' eyes

by Serpents_Cradle



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: 2017 Stanley Cup Playoffs, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Loose Interpretation, M/M, Pining, Please Don't Take This Seriously, RPF, this is a joke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 16:12:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16390979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serpents_Cradle/pseuds/Serpents_Cradle
Summary: It started as many things do, in the end. Looking back, the Captain couldn't look back and place an exact date or time or event where he had fallen for his Alternate, but he knew damn well it had been a while.This was considered a universal truth of life: things either happen suddenly or all at once. But, sometimes, it could be both; an overwhelming realization of how much time you'd been longing for someone, the brush of their hand on a stick as it was passed, their bright smiles after the game was won.(In which emotions run high following the 2017 Stanley Cup Finals.)





	winners' eyes

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I do not endorse any real-life application of Real-Person Fiction. Please do not harass your favorite NHLers over fic.

June 11, 2017.

It started as many things do, in the end. Looking back, the Captain couldn't look back and place an exact date or time or event where he had fallen for his Alternate, but he knew damn well it had been a while.

This was considered a universal truth of life: things either happen suddenly or all at once. But, sometimes, it could be both; an overwhelming realization of how much time you'd been longing for someone, the brush of their hand on a stick as it was passed, their bright smiles after the game was won. It was then that Sidney Crosby, considered by many to be the greatest hockey player of his time, felt red flush bloom up his cheeks and down his chest. Zhenya looked happy, bright, alive, and in that impossibly long moment when he took his victory lap around the rink, the gold and black confetti still falling around them like snow, Sid knew he was already too far gone.

Despite the adrenaline of the win still pumping in his veins, Sid was somehow impossibly still, mouth parted slightly in realization of what had happened. He put every lesson from his media training to good use as the cameras swarmed over the celebrating tangle of skates and sticks and jerseys as Zhenya passed the cup to Kris. From the outside, he seemed every inch a Captain, but he was well aware of the gears in his head turning fast. 

Zhenya passed back over to him, giving him a friendly fist to the shoulder, face split wide that could be described as many things - proud, regal, joyful.

_(Beautiful.)_

***

The post-game interviews passed in a blur of color, everyone still slick with sweat and drunk on the win, but Sid took his leave as soon as he thought it wouldn't be odd. He slipped into the dressing room, pulled himself together, and stared at himself in the reflection of the name plate above his locker. All the signs were there, he realized — it would surely give the fans something to speculate on, later — but they were hidden expertly. He let out a soft sigh, planning to head to the bathroom and take a cold shower, but his train of thought was interrupted by the soft creak of the away room's door.

Zhenya stood in the door, his 2017 Cup Champion hat already on his head, the smile from the ice still present on his face. Sid felt his heart muscles tighten almost imperceptibly. He offered a smile back, but he knew it didn't reach his eyes when Zhenya's own faltered.

The taller man cocked his head slightly, another little tic Sid was afraid to admit he had picked up on. "You okay?" Zhenya asked, taking a few steps forward to let the door behind him close. Sid's mouth went dry, suddenly hyper-aware of the moisture in the air, the slight scent of shitty dollar store air freshener and Clorox from the benches. He nodded slowly.

Zhenya shook his head. "You not okay, Sid. I know you," he explained, taking yet another two strides over. Sid thought he was suffocating. "Horny worried about you. Thought you have more to say."

Sid offered another weak smile, bracing himself subtly on the shelf above his cubby. "Nah. Not much to say after a game like that," he tried, but he knew his words lacked the play he meant to put into them. It was hard to keep his walls up around Zhenya. They had been through so much.

Zhenya squinted softly, obviously trying to decipher the situation. His mouth quirked, lips pursed slightly, and Sid felt his eyes flick down for just a second. It was all Zhenya needed, and his eyes softened in understanding, something that didn't need to cross a language barrier. “Geno,” Sid started, but he knew it was too late.

It was as simple as a breakaway on an empty net, one simple shot that couldn't be stopped by anything.

That was the last thing Sidney remembered thinking of before Zhenya was in front of him, hands on his shoulders, a grounding weight, and lips were on his.

It was like the first time he had learned how to skate back in Cole Harbour, when the strides had finally come with ease, and all of his practice finally came to a head. His first ever NHL goal, his first cup win, nothing would ever compare to this. Not a single thing.

The kiss ended too soon, and then the dread slipped in; the sheer shame of acknowledging what he'd done. His whole career flashed before his eyes, and he didn't let himself breathe again until he looked back and saw the dressing room door was still closed.

Zhenya looked just as worried as he did, but only for a second before a determined and calm look passed over his features. He smiled softly, kissing Sid again, on the forehead. He wrapped a strong, muscled arm around his waist, careful and testing, like he didn't want to scare Sid away. “Listen,” he began, the tension going out of his body as soon as Sid let himself relax. “You are three time Stanley Cup Champion now. Celebration time, yes?” He said, nosing at the damp curls near Sid's hairline. “I'm not tell anybody. Promise. You still Captain.”

Sidney nodded softly, curling his hand back to touch the soft, calloused skin of Zhenya's fingers. “Yeah,” he said, closing his eyes. He figured he could stay like this forever, but he knew he rest of the team would be back too soon. “Yeah. Okay. Not right now, though,” he mumbled, and Zhenya's face fell again, that mask of concern immediately shattering into sadness.

Sid cursed himself mentally. “No, yes, right now. Just. Not here. Tonight?” He tried, embarrassed at his lack of composure. 

Zhenya brightened up again, right back into the smile from before. He pressed one more fleeting kiss to Sid's head, and then nodded, untangling himself from his Captain. “Tonight,” he promised, the unspoken certainty of it hanging around them in a comfortable haze.

_(And, when the rest of the team slowly began to funnel in, Sid didn't have to fake his smile anymore.)_

**Author's Note:**

> I'm afraid to put my Tumblr on this one, but it's evgenismalkin.tumblr.com . Hit me up if you have questions.
> 
> Please don't take this seriously. I don't actually ship SidGeno, but I wrote it to prove a point to a friend and to put it simply, ya boi ain't no pussy.


End file.
